


Various Undertale Ships

by orphan_account



Series: every time the fandom police yells at me i write another drabble [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Incest, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Papyrus (Undertale) Remembers Resets, Pre-Undertale, Sans (Undertale) Remembers Resets, Sibling Incest, Undertale Saves and Resets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 19:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19069456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: this is exactly what you think it is





	1. Franskie (OC/Sans) #1: Prank

“What did you do to my room?”

Sans stands in the middle of his room—or what would have been his room if it weren’t flipped on its head. The floor is clear of any possessions, no hint of life to be seen, it’s usual clutter nowhere to be found. Instead, eyes drawn to the ceiling, Sans finds his bed, his dresser, his trashcan, his clothes—all sticking to the ceiling by a strange, blue substance.

He was gone for twenty minutes. Twenty.

And comes home to this.

A young, blond-haired teen stands next to him, pleased smile on his face and hands tucked behind his back, rocking back and forth on his heels. “April Fools!” he says with a tilt of his head, waving a hand in the air. “This is for filling my hats with shaving cream, fucker.”

Sans looks around at the room, eyelights gone. “How the _fuck_ did you do this?” he asks in a hushed tone, white pinpricks locked onto Frankie’s small form.

“Magic and glue,” Frankie shrugs, smiling from ear to ear. He shuffles on his feet, blue eyes aimed at the floor as he says, “It wasn’t too hard, really. Frisk helped.”

“Of course they did,” the skeleton deadpans. He sighs, wandering around the room, head turned up to the ceiling. “I gotta say, your pranks are getting more complex the longer you spend time with my brother.”

“I know.”

“I hate it and I love it at the same time.”

“I know.”

Sans runs a hand down his face, rubbing at his eyes. “You,” he starts, pointing a finger in Frankie’s face, “you are going to help me with this. You hear?”  

The boy just smiles. He leans forward and kisses the skeleton on the cheek, snickering. “Of course I will.”

“You are _so_ sleeping in the living room tonight.”

“Fair.”


	2. Fontcest: Flowers

Papyrus closes the front door with his foot as he steps inside his humble home, shuffling out of his coat and scarf and tossing them onto the couch. He stomps snow from his boots and sighs, running a hand down his face.

It’d been a long day; trying to remember what to say and when to say it so as not to give away that he’s been through this day before, talking with Flowey despite knowing that doing so does nothing but encourage the tiny flower’s ways further, training four hours on end with Undyne even though he knows she won’t let him into the Royal Guard. He’d tripped on his way back from Waterfall and knocked over Muffet’s fresh supply of pastries, which then led to an hour-long apology that ended in him spending a small fortune on wet food.

Sans is probably going to kill him for that.

It all took a toll on him, sapping him of his energy and most of his wits, leaving him both mentally and physically exhausted with aching bones and a headache rattling in his skull.

Well, at least the house is quiet.

His stomach growls.

…And has food. Had he even eaten today? He can’t remember.

Walking into the kitchen, mind focused on nothing but the leftover pasta in the fridge, he stops, noticing something off.

There, sitting on the counter, is a small bouquet of flowers, seated gently in a glass vase. Echo flowers bloom out from it, glowing a faint blue in the kitchen’s poor lighting and whispering soft words into the air.

He pauses, eyes narrowing. This has to be a prank, he decides; Sans had been on a streak lately, setting up traps around the house for him to wander into (some were deserved—others were not). Surely, a gesture like getting him flowers had to be leading to some kind of bucket of water or feather-dumping trick down the road.

Still. It was better to get it done and over with now rather than later.

Looking around for any wires or magic bombs (Sans is fond of those), he deflates, finding nothing else out of the ordinary. He steps forward, leaning forward and listening in.

“Hey, bro,” the flowers whisper. A smile crosses his face at the sound of his brother’s laid-back voice, so calm and quiet compared to how energetic and loud he tends to be. Complete opposites, everyone says, but fit together like a glove. “I know today’s a rough day and all for you, so I thought I’d get you some of these. Kinda sappy, but thought it’d work out considering I have to work tonight. Have a conversation with it or somethin’—I dunno, you seem fond of making friends outta flowers.

“Love you. See you when I get home.”

Tears fill his eyes. How sweet of him. And here Papyrus was, thinking the worst—

“Also, I glued your door shut. Hope you don’t mind—we’re sharin’ a bed tonight.”

He’s going to kill him.

**Author's Note:**

> i live on spite and soda


End file.
